


My Scarred Moon and Stars

by Draycarla



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Implied/Referenced Torture, M/M, Oral Sex, Shiro Ship Week 2019, from shiros pov
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-14
Updated: 2019-07-14
Packaged: 2020-06-28 06:57:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,065
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19807063
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Draycarla/pseuds/Draycarla
Summary: “Who are you?”“You do not need to know my name. I am only here to check your wounds.”“Well,” Shiro glanced up warily as the new Galra came to a stop a few paces away from him, the light masking his facial features; except for the dull glow of golden eyes that resonated a strange coldness and detachment that didn't match the low, quiet voice, “I've got plenty to check.” He motioned to the torn body suit stained with his own and others' blood.-Ulaz is always there to heal Shiro's wounds, no matter what caused them, and never wants anything in return.Shiro is fighting to keep himself above the surface, to stay strong and unyielding, but over time this Galra brings a safety and warmth he's so very taken by.Scars may never heal, but they can fade.For Shiro Ship Week 2019





	My Scarred Moon and Stars

**Author's Note:**

> I've been a bit busy and quiet lately, but please enjoy this long Uliro piece for the first prompt, Wounds! Can't believe I've got so much done for ship week so far!
> 
> Had to edit this as I thought it copied over fine but didn't, but warnings that the rape is only with Sendak/guards. Violence tagged to be safe, but aside from that it's just good uliro goodness.
> 
> REALLY enjoyed myself with this fic, not gonna lie.

“Who are you?”

“You do not need to know my name. I am only here to check your wounds.”

“Well,” Shiro glanced up warily as the new Galra came to a stop a few paces away from him, the light masking his facial features; except for the dull glow of golden eyes that resonated a strange coldness and detachment that didn't match the low, quiet voice, “I've got plenty to check.” He motioned to the torn body suit stained with his own and others' blood. The Galra said nothing as he approached and firmly pushed him down on the cold metal slab that was supposed to constitute as a bed.

“Be still while I work, otherwise I will have to summon the guards to restrain you. I do not wish to exacerbate your injuries.”

“Whatever.” Shiro let his head roll to the side, defiantly glaring at the wall as the Galra worked. His grip was strong, but he didn't force Shiro's limbs about. Not like the others had.

“I will request you another set of clothes.” The Galra muttered as he applied a gel of some variety to his side. Shiro grunted in response, glare deepening at the wall. They'd become as ripped, torn and dirtied again, so what did it matter what he wore? For a good quarter of the time he wasn't in the arena, he wore nothing when the guards were having their way with him.

-

“You're back again, huh?”

“These are not wounds from the arena. Where did they-”

“Just get out. I don't need your fake concern.” Shiro spat, clenching his fists into balls at his sides as he pulled his body inwards. He didn't know why _he_ bothered sending for this Galra, why they even cared about keeping him cleaned up when he was back in the arena the following day just to collect more damage. He scowled up at him, that dull golden glow trained solely upon his naked form. “Stop looking at me and get out. I don't need – want – you here.”

“It is not a matter of your needs and wants,” the Galra cautiously approached him, “but what my orders are.”

“Did _he_ send you? Does _he_ think that this will undo everything he just done to me?” Shiro tightly held his body, ignoring the pain of these new metal fingers as he dug them into his skin.

The Galra took a step forwards and lowered themselves slowly down. “My orders are to patch you up. I can get you a shower to wash away,” he motioned at Shiro's face, “what remains.”

“You expect me to make myself _more_ vulnerable?” Shiro snapped, glaring up at the Galra's sharp features, “I told you to leave! Get out!” His voice rose higher and the Galra's ears twitched. With a sigh and a curt nod, he rose to his feet.

“Very well. Forcing you is not my intention, but know it will take longer for the damage to heal.”

“Get. Out.” The Galra turned on his heel to leave, the swish of the strange half-apron he wore gentle. He made no sound when he walked, not like the sick commander who had come to him earlier. Shiro pushed his human hand into his hair, ignoring the sticky strands he caught.

“I was called to attend to your wounds, the specifics of which was not relayed to me,” the Galra cast him a look over his shoulder, face in half-shadow, “if your...condition had been specified, I would have came later so not to cause such tensions.” He slowly blinked at Shiro and left, the door softly clicking shut behind him. Shiro snarled into his knees, blinking back the tears that threatened to fall again.

He desperately needed help – he didn't want to be alone – but he couldn't trust them. He was alone out here; he needed to fend for himself.

-

Bloodstained and riding the arena high, Shiro glared up at the Galra.

“I see you have avoided sustaining damage.” He offered a small grin at Shiro.

“Well, the fights were a bit too easy,” Shiro's face twisted into a hardened smirk.

“I saw, Champion,” the Galra walked forward slowly before stopping in front of him, “however I am here to take you to the labs.” Shiro blinked slowly up at him, the adrenaline draining from his body almost instantaneously, only to be replaced with a cold sense of dread. “No. No, not again,” he backed up, body shaking until he hit something colder than his skin, “please not again, my arm,” he raised the disgusting metal prosthetic, “it-it's fine, see? No damage, it works,” he raised the human one, “and this one,” he swallowed, “nothing wrong. Don't, don't take me there.”

The Galra's look could be one of commiseration with how his lips drooped and his head tilted downwards. “I have my orders, Champion, she wishes to see you.” The tone felt flat and low, and Shiro couldn't help but wonder whether this Galra felt _bad_ about what he was doing, or whether he was projecting human expressions on to him in some vain attempt for normalcy. “You could say no-”

“Then another would come in my place. Come, Champion, before I have to summon the sentries. I do not wish to prolong this.”

“Why?” Shiro hung his head, feeling his body shake, “why're you doing this? Human's aren't a threat to you – you'd _destroy us_. I just...just-” he didn't hear the Galra move until he felt clawed hands take his shoulders. The hold was restrained, more careful then all the previous times they'd met in his cell over the past month, maybe. Shiro had lost all concept of time, the knowledge replaced by how many terrified faces he saw in his nightmares.

“You caught their attention when you became Champion. You were not to know.” His usually sharp gaze seemed less so. Shiro's throat felt dry as he stared into the golden eyes. “Is there any way to stop it?” Shiro whispered hoarsely. The Galra sighed, closing his eyes and releasing a soft breath from his lips. “We must leave, or you will suffer for it.”

“I'm just so tired.” Shiro murmured as he was guided away from the arena. Back down to the cold labs to lay upon a cold table until they knocked him out, if he was lucky. Shiro didn't want to die, but he found himself thinking how it would be easier sometimes if he did. He could let himself fall in the arena, or even try and enrage the guards or that arrogant commander. He hadn't come around in a while, and Shiro had been grateful.

-

Ulaz paced along the corridor towards Champion's cell. He'd been isolated from the general prison populous for three phoebs now, with two guards posted at all times outside his door. He had attempted escapes and assaulted the guards in desperation. His will to resist and inner strength had attracted the unsavoury types to tame the 'beast' he was considered, which Ulaz had fast-realised was an increasing occurrence. New wounds: bruises, cuts, and fractured bones littered his body in such intimate areas that made his skin crawl. He didn't know when, but over the past two movements since the arena matches had petered out for a season break, he had found himself drawn back to Champion's cell to check he was still alive.

He had noted the cold and aggressive demeanour had started to crack either due to the isolation or all the violations of his body – violations Ulaz had to be complicit in because of his mission. Champion's will to fight him had decreased from his early visits, and Ulaz found himself holding more concern then usual for the alien. Whatever was breaking him down was certainly doing a 'good' job of it, but whoever dared mark Haggar's test subject was playing a dangerous game with her. He swallowed the lump in his throat as he rounded the corner to find no guards present. This was not good. The cells were soundproof around here, and Ulaz felt the contents of his stomach curdle as he moved towards the door, uncertain what he'd find on the other side once he disengaged the lock. He pressed it, taking a deep breath in.

A golden eye and a red cybernetic one glanced up at him briefly, seeming unperturbed at the interruption, before clawed hands dragged Champion's bloody face from the metal floor.

“It seems someone has come to watch your debasement, Champion,” Sendak brought his head up to look Ulaz dead in the eyes, “you can have him after, I am just about done.” Ulaz couldn't say anything as he just stared into the tear-stricken face of Champion, blood running down from his hairline and from the corner of his open mouth. The eyes – pupils – made his heart stop for a tick. So full of terror and pain that Ulaz could not imagine. It was like Champion had been paralysed into such a position. The look remained as Sendak let his body fall to the floor in a heap. The skin pale and covered in a sheen of sweat and smeared blood, new cuts decorated the bruised hips.

“I heard you had been appearing here frequently, Technician,” Sendak towered in front of him, “I know you are his handler, but you must remember he is not just yours.”

“E-Excuse me, Commander Sendak?”

“You heard me,” Sendak smirked down at him, “I understand why, he makes such beautiful noises.”

“I have never done what you suggest, he is a subject of Haggar's, a subject you would do well to leave alone lest she finds out.”

“But she will not, will she?” Sendak leaned down over him, sharp teeth glittering in the light, “because if you enjoy living, you will do well to not threaten me.”

“Your reputation is known,” Ulaz narrowed his eyes upwards, “but you are not untouchable.” Sendak laughed as he pushed past, offering a lazy wave. “You amuse me, Technician. I have the Emperor on my side, and a prisoner is still a prisoner. You have no power here. Enjoy him,” he glanced over his shoulder, a terrible smile on his face, “I opened up his tight ass for you.” The laughter echoed around the corridor and into the cell as Sendak left, leaving Ulaz looking between his wake and Champion just led there unmoving.

Releasing the shaking breath, Ulaz carefully moved towards Champion's body. The body suit had been shredded to pieces, some tattered remnants left around his thighs. Ulaz hissed through his teeth as he carefully rolled the human over, offering a small apology if he'd been rough. Champion stared at the open door while Ulaz took what useable bits of the suit remained to tie around his wounds. “I am sorry again if this hurts. I had no idea _he_ would be here. You do not deserve that treatment.”

“I lost count,” Champion's voice could have been missed if Ulaz had lesser hearing, “of how many times he's come here. What did I do?”

“You did not do anything,” Ulaz smoothed some white strands from his face as he narrowed his eyes, “I need to move you – you need medical treatment.”

“Leave me here for the next one.”

“No, Champion, this will not do. You are a gladiator, not a common whore-”

“I'm a test subject, a lab rat if you will, and entertainment,” Champion still didn't look at him as he spoke, “I'm here for you sick fucks to use as a plaything and I _hate it_. I hate all of you so, so much.” He brought a shaking hand up to his face, scrubbing at his eyes. “He's a coward – a dishonourable piece of shit that I would slaughter in the arena if I could.”

“I would not blame you.” Ulaz muttered as he tied another wound, trying to ignore the foul smell of the cell that he could almost taste in the back of his throat.

Champion eyed him carefully through the growing dark bruise under his eye, “why've you been visiting me? I don't understand your motivations. Are you trying to be kind, play this doctor role or something? Get me to trust you then dissect me alive? Rape me?”

“No!” Ulaz snapped, the action causing Champion to flinch away. Ulaz sighed, scrubbing at his own face, “I have noticed increasing wounds upon your person. I do not want you to be hurt continuously.”

“Why do you care about me?”

“Because,” Ulaz paused, “I cannot stand to see such injustice.”

“Then why don't you do something about it?” A wicked determined look re-emerged in his eyes, and Ulaz couldn't help feel his lips tug upwards. “I perhaps ask too much, but trust me.”

“You're going to need to give me a reason to trust you.”

“Then I will find one,” Ulaz carefully hoisted Champion up bridal style, staring down into those eyes again, “and perhaps one quintant you can. For now,” Ulaz moved slowly from the dark cell out into the corridors, taking stock of the pale human in his arms, “I will offer you my name: Ulaz.”

-

It had been four phoebs since Champion had come to be with them. He was continuing to please Zarkon with his performance in the arena. The way he fought flicked between that of a cornered animal fighting fang and claw for his survival, to those where he danced deadly circles around his opponent, making swift clean strikes with the prosthetic hand until his opponent lay dead in the sand. Haggar was starting to ease off on her testing, and there was whispered rumours that the Champion would be sent out with Commander Sendak in due course if he could survive ten phoebs in the arena undefeated. If this was true, Ulaz knew he needed to get on that ship so Champion had one friendly face.

Slowly, the animosity had started to leave Champion. It wasn't fully gone, which Ulaz could understand considering his situation, but it warmed his insides when Champion's lips would tug lightly upwards when he made his nightly visits. It was perhaps because he brought him food. Champion would make a strange noise in his throat, one he had learned was appreciation, when he was presented with small containers of regular food. He would devour anything that Ulaz gave him. Whether he liked it or not, Ulaz was never truly sure, but the warmth in his chest failed to subside.

He nodded at the guards as he entered the cell. They were used to his continuous presence, something he was grateful for. As usual, he found Champion practising his forms with the prosthetic in the almost-darkness he lived in.

Ulaz gave him a curt nod and pulled his bag around. “Would you sit on the slab, Champion?”

“Sure. What did you bring today, Ulaz?” Those grey eyes flicked to him, holding the stare for a few ticks. Ulaz broke the contact first, moving to the slab and perching on the side. He had to be careful still with Champion; he was still wary about him. “It is a mix of grains, vegetables, and an alien meat that is rich in protein.” He pulled out the container as Champion pushed himself up onto the slab and took it in his hands, seemingly enjoying the fact it was still warm as his fingers rubbed along the sides. “Thank you.”

“You do not need to thank me.”

“I do,” Champion inclined his head towards him as he popped the lid off, “you're actually feeding me real food. Not that purple goo that tastes like shit. This,” he took the spork and jabbed at the food, “smells good, looks good. It reminds me...” he looked into the container, lips drawn tightly together and face marred with a deep frown as he opened his mouth, “of home.”

Champion had revealed very little about himself, so this was a slight shock to Ulaz that he would say such things. “I am pleased it reminds you of your home. It is why I cook, to remind myself of home.” Home, at least for him now, was with his comrades when they could be together at headquarters. They would cook rich dishes and feast together, or at least they used to when their numbers were larger. These quintants, it had become difficult with them so thinly spread or on undercover missions for deca-phoebs at a time. His placement within the labs was something he despised, but the intel he gained was why he did it. Kolivan had a good understanding of what was going on down there, and it would help in their fight.

“I never learned how to cook. My mum, then my partner, did that for me.” Champion mused as he lifted the spork to his mouth, humming to himself as he bit down. “Granted,” he continued after swallowing, “I'm not really that good in the kitchen.”

“I had to learn quite young.” Ulaz mused, watching him carefully from the corner of his eye as Champion prodded the meat cautiously.

“How come?”

“I lost my parents in a war.”

“I'm...sorry.”

“It was thousands of deca-phoebs ago, and you have nothing to apologise for, Champion. It is what happens when you belong to a warrior race; battle and death go hand-in-hand.”

“Victory or death, right?” He gave a derisive snort as he sniffed the meat. Ulaz hummed as he glanced at the wall. “I live to the mantra knowledge or death.”

“I live to the mantra of I'd rather not be dead, personally.”

“I imagine so, especially with how you fight.” Ulaz shifted his position, taking in Champion's form as he ate.

“I get tired of hearing about how I fight. I hate it. My hands, I still see the blood stained to them in my sleep, and no matter how much I scrub my flesh or the metal, it's like it never goes away. Why do you let this happen? What's wrong with you?” Champion placed the container between them, folding his arms across his chest. Ulaz sighed as he closed his eyes.

“The arena used to be a place of honourable battle to settle disputes between warring clans...but since my race started to expand, it has become a mockery of what it stood for.”

“You don't sound like you like it either.”

“That is because I do not.” At this Champion sat up straighter, one eyebrow raised but lips a tight line.

“Explain.” His voice was one of rightful distrust. Ulaz brought his hands together in his lap, staring hard at the floor. “I appreciate you struggle to trust us, trust me, but believe me when I say that not all Galra are as vile as those who do you harm.” His ears pricked as Champion picked up the container again, pushing the food around by the sounds of it. “It's hard to when you're one of them who cuts me open. You have no idea how lonely it is out here, how humiliating it is to live like this.”

“I do not.”

“You've been kind to me, and I can't deny that. I just...” Champion stilled, “I don't know. I don't know how to feel or what to think.”

“What do you mean?”

“Forget it, Ulaz. Please, just forget I said anything.” He shovelled the food into his mouth, releasing another small hum from his throat. “This tastes really good.”

“Thank you, Champion.”

“Call me Shiro. I can't stand that title.”

“Thank you, Shiro.”

-

“Ahh, that hurts!”

“I'm sorry, Shiro,” Ulaz soothed as he tended the slash across his nose. His opponent in the arena today had been fierce, but he'd won. It was the first time in a long while he'd had a challenge, and what a challenge it was. The crowds had cheered in glee at the gore, the disgusting bastards, and Zarkon had given him a 'reward' of some alien to bed. In his frustration, he accepted. The sex was meaningless and left him feeling empty, even if he had came. He'd felt nothing but emptiness in the act, even if he tried to imagine anyone else but the alien below him. He lifted his eyes from Ulaz's armour to stare at his face.

“I haven't seen any Galra with white hair or markings like yours. Are you full Galra?”

“I am indeed. There are three distinct types of Galra, as well as mixes of two sub species.”

“I know some have...leathery skin and look reptilian, some are more fur then anything, but you...you have hair and skin? Or is it short fur.”

“You may touch to find the answer yourself,” Ulaz offered. Shiro blinked at him a few times, then hissed as he dabbed at the wound that spread over his cheeks. Any higher, and he'd have lost his eyes. “Isn't that a bit, uh, intimate?”

“That would depend where you touched and your intentions,” Ulaz gave him a soft look that made Shiro's chest clench for a few seconds. He enjoyed Ulaz's company more and more, the small chats a blessing for his sanity and the kindness he showed him. Shiro was still wary, but found it slowly eroding away. Even when Sendak or the guards appeared for him, he knew Ulaz would come along at the same time every night to check him. He'd bring his medical kit and patch him up, clean away the filth, and not once call him names or degrade him. A few week's ago, Shiro had offered himself after one attack he'd managed to dodge thanks to him arriving in time, but Ulaz had declined and spent it soothing Shiro's nerves. He never wanted anything from him except his trust, and Shiro was lacking reasons to distrust him these days. It'd been months – apparently six phoebs which was like a month – since he was captured, but he was proving himself to Shiro.

Very carefully, he raised his human hand and brushed two fingers against the side of his cheek. “It feels like skin, just softer.”

“Why thank you, Shiro.” Ulaz softly chuckled and offered him a small smile, that cold look in his eyes now replaced with something warm. Absently, Shiro did it again, tracing the line down the side of his jaw where the fur became lighter across his face, as Ulaz worked on the scabbed wound. “I wish my body wasn't as scarred.”

“Battle scars are considered attractive to the Galra. It shows you are not weak.”

“Heh, should I be surprised?” Shiro closed his eyes and let his hand drop to his side.

“You need not be surprised.”

“It was a rhetorical question,” Shiro sighed, before laughing softly to himself as Ulaz nodded.

“Humans are tad confusing.”

“Do the Galra not do that?”

“Not really. We are quite straightforward,” Ulaz offered as he pulled away, “that is the best I can do with limited resources. I can at most give you some quintessence to help it heal.”

“I thought that wasn't to be used on prisoners?”

“Correct,” Ulaz flashed sharp teeth at him, “however things do get lost.” He brought out a small syringe filled with glowing liquid. Shiro looked at it, then Ulaz. “Use it. I trust you know what you're doing.” Shiro offered out his arm, and Ulaz very carefully injected him. “Thank you for trusting me, Shiro.”

“Thank you for being the only one to care about me.”

-

“You will need to observe him overnight.”

“I understand, High Priestess.” Ulaz watched Haggar leave before turning his attention to Shiro, who laid unconscious on the table. She had found new things to do to him; taking more samples of things she need not. He had almost died during the session, but for now was thankfully stable. Slowly he paced over to the body, taking stock of how small he was. How terrible his situation was. She was collecting samples to clone him in case of his death. Zarkon had deemed him worthy of keeping for his ability in the arena, how he would have additional uses. The rumours about him being loaned to Sendak to see how he fared were no longer rumours, and he only had two phoebs' left in the arena before he was sent away. Ulaz had put in the request with Haggar to stay with him, rationalising that he could send her information and make sure he was kept in proper health. Haggar had agreed, which was a blessing in that he no longer needed to stay in the labs, but also because he could keep Shiro safer.

The more he learned about Shiro, the more fond of the human he had become. He knew he was compromising himself, but Ulaz was losing his resolve to stay hidden. What they were doing to him was wrong, what he'd _done_ to Shiro and all the others before him was wrong. He needed to go back to Earth, be safe and away from all of them. If that meant saying goodbye to the man, Ulaz would hate it, but knew it was for the best. Kolivan would be livid if he acted rashly, but his conscious could only take so much before he would become irredeemable. Assassin and agent he may be, but Shiro was innocent in all of this.

“I hope you can forgive me one day, Shiro, but I must get you away from this place. Know that it is for the best.” He whispered as he brushed white hair from his face, letting his gloved fingers trail across his cheek. He wondered if Shiro could hear him, and wondered how he would feel.

-

“He has such defiant eyes,” Sendak purred as he sat next to Ulaz.

“He does.”

“I take pleasure squeezing the fight out of him when I wring his neck. I look forward to having him on board my vessel next phoeb.”

“You disgust me, Commander.”

“Oh? You think you are better then me?” Sendak tilted his head back, watching Ulaz from the corner of his eye, “I would say you are equally, if not more, vile than myself. The scars from being cut open, my, they are quite long, are they not?”

“I do not go to his cell and take him against his will.”

“Is it against his will if he calls me master?”

“Yes, when I know you have been beating it in to him,” Ulaz hissed low, lips drawn back as he scowled at Sendak, “you think I do not know? I do not see the aftermath?”

“You spend an awfully large amount of time around Champion,” Sendak growled, “as I said phoebs' ago, he is not yours.”

“Neither does he belong to you.”

“He may belong to the Empire, Technician, but his body is _mine_. Every inch of his beautifully scarred skin I have touched and,” Sendak licked his lips, “the taste of his blood is satisfying when you are buried in such tightness.”

“As I said, Commander, you disgust me.” Ulaz rose from his seat in the arena, casting Sendak a sharp glare. If he could, he would gut him there and then.

He let his gaze rest on Shiro as he danced around his opponent. With one final step, he punctured his hand through their chest. The screen showed him smirking widely as blood splattered against his skin, but Ulaz knew the facade. Compared to Sendak, he _knew_ Shiro, and that just like the arena, he was pretending.

In the vargas that passed after the fights were over, Ulaz found himself back at Shiro's cell like clockwork. The guards offered him a smile before resuming their conversation. He slipped inside to find Shiro curled up facing the wall under the slab. “Shiro? What is wrong?” Ulaz quickly paced over and dropped to his knees, cautiously placing a hand on his shoulder. Shiro flinched from the touch, making a small whine as he curled inwards. “Please leave me.” His hand clutched tightly at his shoulder, and it stirred a sense of dread in Ulaz's stomach.

“I will not leave you, Shiro. Please, tell me, what has happened?”

“I-I can't. Just go. Go and give up on me.”

“Sendak. He has been, hasn't he?” Ulaz balled his fists together tightly. Shiro made a weak nod in reply.

“What has he said to you?”

“He'd kill my friends if I didn't...if I didn't let him-”

“Let him what? What has he done?” Ulaz couldn't help pull Shiro onto his back, eyes wide as he stared at the bloody face. It was then he saw the smeared blood around his neck, the indents. Ulaz immediately loosened his grip and brought his hands to his chest. “I-I had to say yes, Ulaz, I had to. I didn't want to- _it hurt_.”

“Sit up, Shiro,” Ulaz found himself ordering. Carefully, Shiro pushed himself from the floor, body shaking as he pulled down the fabric covering his neck.

The teeth had broken the skin. Sendak had gave him a claiming bite. It was supposed to tell other Galra to stay away, that the one claimed was his and his alone. They were only offered between those who looked to become mates; and Ulaz knew that Sendak was not the type to make Shiro his mate. “He said I belonged to him with this. Said no one could have me now. All I had to do was agree to be his mate, whatever that is, and no one would get hurt. Said he'd protect me from the guards...from the witch. I...Ulaz, gods, I-I-” Ulaz scooped him into his lap protectively, holding the back of Shiro's head possessively against his chest.

“You did not deserve this.”

“Please, just kill me.”

“I cannot do that, Shiro.”

“Why? Is it because you'd get in trouble?” Shiro's hands gripped him tighter and Ulaz nuzzled his face against Shiro's cheek. “That is not the full reason.”

“Then what is?” Shiro peeked up at him, and Ulaz's heart skipped a beat. He wet his lips and looked around, even though they were alone. He stroked the short hairs on the back of Shiro's head, an action that he had found soothed the man as he steeled his resolve. It had been something the two had danced around for a few movements; more awkward glances and silences to count, longer and softer looks, and Shiro allowing Ulaz to come more into his personal space. Even now, the confused look on Shiro's face held no anger or fear, and Ulaz wished to see him like this quintantly.

“I cannot kill you, for if you died, I fear my heart would crumble to dust.” Ulaz closed his eyes, awaiting the rejection. Instead, he felt hands move behind the back of his head, and as he was pulled down, his lips pressed against something soft. The action was chaste and pleasant. It created a warm feeling in his chest, and as Ulaz opened his eyes, so did Shiro. “What was that?”

“A kiss,” Shiro slowly blinked at him as he smoothed his fingers against his uniform, “it's...how humans show affection.” A strange hue covered his cheeks, and Ulaz wondered if he was sick as he stroked his fingers against the flushed skin.

“You do not reject me?”

“How can I?”

“I am Galra.”

“You have looked after me so, so much,” Shiro brought his hands round, caressing his jawline with his thumbs, “and been there to always pick up the pieces of myself. I...” Shiro narrowed his eyes at the floor, before giving him a determined look and pressing their lips together again with more confidence. Ulaz made a small moan as Shiro ran his tongue over his lips, then carefully nibbled them. This human custom was quite nice, and the press of their bodies felt pleasant. _Shiro_ felt pleasant. He needed to save Shiro, and Kolivan be damned, he'd take the punishment. They just had to get off Central Command.

-

“S-Shiro, _please_ ,” Ulaz pushed his hands carefully into Shiro's hair as he ran the flat of his tongue down his cock, then traced it back upwards, taking care to tease the inside of the ridges and seemed to be sensitive and earned small breathy moans from Ulaz. Shiro glanced up between his lashes, taking stock of how his usual reserved demeanour melted away. He took Ulaz's cock in his hand, slowly rubbing the beaded come back over the head in easy circles. “Please what?” He cocked an eyebrow as he gently sucked the tip, blinking slowly upwards. He liked this, getting to be so intimate on his own terms, and with Ulaz, it felt right. After every fight and every night, he came here to check on him. Every wound he treated and bandaged and nothing was ever too much trouble. Right now, this was the most Shiro could do, and he was happy to.

He could tell Ulaz was trying to restrain himself from grabbing his hair and rolling his hips upwards. He was sweet, never wanting to hurt him, and Shiro knew he would never do it on purpose. He laced his metal arm under Ulaz's thigh, clutching tightly as he worked himself down the length. With his human hand, he pushed Ulaz's hand down into his hair, humming as he moved the fingers around into the strands. He seemed to get the message when Shiro felt him gently pull his hair, whispering his name like a chant as Shiro reached the base. He held it for a few seconds before pulling back up, rubbing and flicking his tongue against the heat in his mouth. He tasted good, _addictive._ His own erection pressed against the fabric, the tension pleasurable every time he moved.

He kept up pleasing Ulaz, humming in the back of his throat, then chuckling at the breathy groans he made. It wasn't long until Ulaz pulled him off carefully, panting down at him through half-closed eyes. “T-That was...” he made a small chuckle, rubbing the side of Shiro's cheek, “very good.”

“Thank you,” Shiro took his hand and gave the knuckles a small kiss, “let me do more.”

“No, let me tend to you,” Ulaz lifted Shiro with ease up besides him, firmly pushing him down and trailing two fingers over his erection. Shiro shivered into the touch, arching his back as he loosened a small moan. Ulaz softly purred as his nimble fingers loosened his body suit, pushing it open and down. Shiro allowed him to remove it, watching as he dropped it to the wayside, before placing each leg over his shoulders. Shiro moaned as his fingers trailed down his thighs slowly, shivered as they touched the sensitive skin until they rested, rubbing small circles, between his legs.

“You are beautiful,” Ulaz breathed. Shiro felt his face heat up, glancing awkwardly to the side.

“Is it because of the scars?”

“No. You as a whole,” Ulaz nuzzled at his leg, “and I am grateful you could come to trust me.” It made his chest swell with a warmth he'd almost forgotten, and as he stared into those soft golden eyes, he couldn't help but wonder what would've happened to him if Ulaz wasn't here. He raised his hand, Ulaz bringing his up, until their fingers entwined. Ulaz leaned down, licking a stripe up his length, before peppering kisses against his hips and up his stomach, his chest and neck, until he pressed their lips together. Shiro freed his legs, choosing to hook them around his waist. “You are my moon and stars,” Ulaz whispered into his mouth as he pulled up, “and I will do everything to protect you.”

“Don't ever leave me,” Shiro tightened his grip on Ulaz's hand, and he squeezed it reassuringly.

“I promise I will never leave you.” He leaned down, licking again at Shiro's cock. With his free hand, he fished into his pocket and pulled out a small bottle.

Shiro opened the offered bottle and poured some of the contents on Ulaz's fingers, which then slid between his legs. He felt them stroke slowly over his entrance as Ulaz continued licking and lightly sucking against his skin. It felt good; too good. He twitched and shivered, whining and begging for more. “Please relax,” he pressed his fingers against Shiro's entrance. “I am. _Please_.” He rolled his hips against the touch, feeling the slickness. Slowly, he felt one ease itself inside. As it moved deeper, he couldn't help the needy moans that escaped his lips. He raised his hips, feeling the finger curl inside, until slowly the knuckle was pressed against his skin. Ulaz pulled it back, and it sent sharp jolts of pleasure through his body. Soon it pushed back in, and he built up a steady rhythm of thrusting, curling, and twisting that had Shiro feel like he'd come just from this. His breath caught as a second entered, and he bit down on his metal fingers to stifle the hoarser moan he could've released.

“Let me hear you, Shiro,” Ulaz murmured, quickening his pace as he planted more kisses against his stomach and abdomen. Shiro let his hand drop to the side, panting as he bucked his hips in time with the thrusts until he felt himself slowly get closer to orgasm. “P-Please, _fuck me_!” Ulaz nodded down at him, wetting his lips as he took the bottle and poured more contents over his fingers. With quick movements, he lathered it into his skin before easing his fingers out and applying the excess to Shiro's needy entrance. With ease and a firm hold, Ulaz carefully hauled his body up, hooking one of Shiro's legs around his waist, then lining himself up. “Tell me if it hurts.”

“Just put it in,” Shiro flicked his eyes to Ulaz, who chuckled as he pressed the thick head at his entrance. As it eased in, Shiro hissed through his teeth until the head was inside. Slowly, each ridge on the underside slipped in, stimulating his sensitive insides in ways he'd not thought were possible. It hurt a tiny bit, but nothing he couldn't take. Eventually Ulaz came to a stop, affectionately stroking his chest. “You feel wonderful.”

“So do you.” Shiro let his head tilt to the side and through heavy eyelids, he gave a lazy thrust of his hips upwards. Ulaz purred as he leaned down, tightening his grip on Shiro's hand.

The thrusts started slow and deep as they acclimatised to each other. Shiro let Ulaz set the pace, enjoying how the ridges felt inside. As they became more confident, the pace increased, Shiro rocking his hips to the rhythm. “U-Ulaz, harder, _please_.” The pace increased as requested, the strokes against his insides picking up to the point that every strike against his prostate sent little stars over Shiro's vision. The tempo of his moans grew and grew, the grip of their hands increasing until Shiro felt his fingers numb. “So...close,” he arched his back up, chest heaving as he panted. He felt the sweat over his skin and didn't care. Ulaz growled above him and Shiro felt the ridges flare as he erratically fucked him. Untangling their fingers, Ulaz grabbed Shiro's cock firmly and pumped it in time to the thrusts. Moments later, both their voices hitched and Shiro saw more stars as he came, feeling the hotness spray over his stomach and fill him. They looked at each other, panting heavily. Ulaz leaned over him, licking Shiro's come from his fingers, before pressing their lips together. Shiro grabbed at the sides of his face, deepening it with everything he had until they were breathless.

-

He was only able to see Shiro once a movement, and whenever he did, Shiro would come to him with more abrasions and cuts. Haggar had found out what Sendak had been doing after one of the Druids had come to collect him, only to find the commander with his hand around his neck as he raped Shiro. That hadn't deterred Sendak, even after she'd used her magic on him. Usually any punishment from Haggar would terrify and force compliance if anyone dared to go against her, but Sendak was a monster who did not fear death from anyone, even the Emperor.

As he waited outside of the arena for Shiro, his mind flicked towards his plan to escape. The location of the Red Lion had been found upon a volatile planet littered with volcanoes, and was allegedly a base for a group of rebels. Whether _they_ had found the Red Lion remained to be seen, and Ulaz secretly prayed that the planet housed no rebels. Between Sendak and Haxus, they would be destroyed, and with Shiro under duress, his skills would decimate them in no time.

Eventually Shiro was released, rotating his human wrist as he paced towards him. Ulaz offered him a fond smile as he neared, and Shiro returned it with an equally soft one. “I've missed you.”

“And I have missed you, Shiro,” if he could, Ulaz would bend down and indulge him in a kiss again, but in the open he could not. “Are we going back to the labs?”

“Yes...Haggar wishes to check you over a final time before you leave.” He offered Shiro a small pat on the shoulder, the man nodding slowly to himself. “I'm happy you'll be coming with me.”

“As am I. I will do my best to keep you safe from the commander.” Ulaz muttered, Shiro offering a stiff nod as he rubbed at his shoulder. “He said that once we get the Red Lion...he's going to mate me properly. I don't want that, don't want him touching me any more. I can't _stand him_.”

Ulaz looked around quickly before tugging Shiro down a quiet corridor. He took his hands in his as he bent down, noting the look of surprise on Shiro's face. “I will not let him.”

“You...you can't be there all the time, and even if you were, he won't _stop_.”

“Believe me, Shiro, I will not let him take you like that. I swear upon my life he will not harm you.” He grasped the hands tighter, feeling the stubbornness kick in. He would scupper his mission for this man before him, because Shiro did not deserve that fate. He was a kind soul, determined and strong. His people may have tried to break him, but he had remained resilient. He was a force to be reckoned with, especially when he was free of this place.

-

“I am pleased with your work, Commander Sendak,” Zarkon's voice held a happy rumble as he glanced around the assembled crew, “not only have you acquired the Red Lion, but you have taken down our enemies. Did Champion handle well?”

“Yes, Sire, he sustained no injuries,” Sendak paused for a moment, before continuing, “however he did attempt to flee.” Zarkon narrowed his eyes and shifted. “What has become of him?”

“He is down with the Technician for his punishment.”

“Good. Return to Central Command. We have news that the Blue Lion has been found on a planet on the fringes of the Empire. One that Champion knows intimately.”

“Shall I let him know? That may temper him.” He smirked at Zarkon's nod of approval, “then it shall be done.”

“Good.”

“Thank you, Emperor. Vrepit Sa!” The transmission ended and Sendak smirked as he stalked from the bridge.

-

“Leave him awake, I want him to feel this,” Ulaz growled at the assistant, who slowly backed away with the needle. He glared down at Shiro, who shook in the restraints at the equipment above him. “For your attempt to escape, Champion,” Ulaz readied himself, eyes flashing, “I will personally remove that other arm of yours.” Shiro's eyes widened in fear as he shook in the restraints, tears threatening to fall. Ulaz hated to be hard on him like this, but he wouldn't have to any longer. He could act now.

Shiro watched, mouth agape, as Ulaz spun round and grabbed a guard by the arm, before flinging him straight over his shoulder into the opposite wall. The room erupted into confusion, and with speed and force Shiro had never expected from him, Ulaz despatched each of the guards and assistants with ease. He hurried over to the table, disengaging the energy restraints and pulled Shiro up. “We must hurry,” he quickly pulled some device from behind him and held it above his prosthetic. “This will have coordinates as to where to find me,” his gaze was hardened as he glanced at Shiro, stern voice matching his seriousness, “but you must get back to Earth to protect the Blue Lion. It's only a matter of time before the Galra find it, and you're our only hope.” Once the device was done, Ulaz yanked him from the table.

“You said you had been counting the footsteps?”

“Yeah!”

“Good, we will have to part ways soon. Head to the hangar and take the ship nearest the exit. It will take you home. You have ten dobosh's until the bombs I planted go off.”

“Where're you-”

“There is no time! I must disappear after this.”

“Come with me!” Shiro ducked down against the wall with Ulaz as he peered out, cautiously. “I cannot-”

“You can!”

“Shiro! Please, _go!_ ” Ulaz pushed him out, motioning him to run. Shiro bit his lip, drinking in every detail of his face before turning. “You better get out alive and come to Earth!” He ran, leaving Ulaz behind and carrying a sick feeling in his gut.

Ulaz was lucky to just dodge the metal arm. He whirled around to find Sendak glowering at him, the gaze murderous. In the distance, he heard an explosion. _It was too early_. “I go to the labs to find my staff knocked out, and Champion missing. What a _surprise_ to see you here. Where is he?” Sendak's prosthetic retracted, and he clenched the metal claws tightly as he moved forwards with intent. Ulaz rose from his position, returning the look. “You will not hurt him any longer.” He took the dagger from under his armour, letting the blade transform within his clenched fist. “I will stop you or die trying.” Sendak cast him a derisive look, then spat at his feet. “You are pathetic. I look forward to gutting you.”

Metal struck metal as another explosion sounded, the two unyielding. They moved again, Ulaz slipping to the side as he moved in for the kill. “I will not let you hurt him again! I will cut you down!” He emphasised each word with a connecting slash of his blade. Sendak snarled out, before punching him in the side of the face. The hit sent Ulaz off-kilter, and it was all the time Sendak needed to take the upper hand. Ulaz screamed when the claws seared through to his flesh, cutting in deep. As Sendak brought him in close, Ulaz snarled and brought the blade down straight through his fleshy shoulder, twisting is through the tendons. Ulaz dropped low, kicking him hard in the ribs.

“You think you can win?”

In response, Ulaz swung the blade against his knee. Sendak dodged, but didn't anticipate Ulaz sweeping Sendak off his feet. He fell to the ground, howling in pain as he took the fall badly. Ulaz needed to make his escape now. He grabbed the flash grenade from his pouch and threw it to the floor. Sendak snarled out, thrashing the prosthetic with abandon, while Ulaz turned and headed for the hangars. Swiping at another device, he hammered at the screen. It was to shut off the engines and disengage their systems for long enough they could get away.

The pain increased as he sprinted down the hallways, slicing at control panels. Shiro should've got out by now- _Oh no._ There. In front of him, clutching at his chest. Ulaz snarled as he pushed himself harder. He had placed most of his bombs around here, and if some were detonating early. No, he couldn't think of it. He couldn't lose him. Not after this, not ever. He grabbed Shiro, throwing him over his shoulder as he tore into the hangar.

That was when the bombs detonated behind them.

The blast sent the two flying into the side of the ship.

Ulaz's ears rang from the roar of it.

Shiro felt blinded by the light, consciousness waning. He could feel Ulaz moving on unsteady feet, still carrying him.

Then the last explosion came. Ulaz fell into the ship, Shiro falling from his arms and rolling across the floor until his back struck something hard enough to make him cough out in pain.

Ulaz dragged himself over to the panel, pressing his palm against it before dropping to the metal ground. The ship started to move. It must be set to autopilot. He was going to Earth. _They_ were going to Earth.

Kolivan would think he'd died. He didn't know how the Earthlings would react to him. Ulaz glanced over at Shiro, eyes glassy yet breathing heavily. He could taste the acrid gunpowder in the back of his throat as he inched over the floor, offering out a hand. Shiro looked at it, then him, and unsteadily offered his own.

“Sorry.”

“Do...not be,” Ulaz felt their fingers graze against each other, and he shuffled forward a little more, taking Shiro's hand in his.

“The plan didn't go...accordingly.”

“Least we're 'gether,” Shiro blinked slowly at him, before his body slumped. Ulaz's gave out just as quickly.

-

Shiro and some children had broken into the base that had Ulaz under lock and key. As much as he could have broken free of their primitive cells, he did not lest they attacked. Shiro had stolen a strange vehicle and they tore off into the darkness back to a strange building in the middle of a desert. The children had left the two of them alone, the black-haired one with curious eyes giving him a hard look before leaving the two. He hoped he was not causing trouble for him.

“They...didn't hurt you, did they?” Shiro finally managed as the two sat in the sand. Ulaz hesitated a moment, and Shiro placed a hand firmly on his shoulder, “if they did, I won't let them get away with it.”

“They did not do anything that harmed me, just locked me away.” Ulaz seemed flippant, but Shiro still couldn't stand the thought of him being locked up. He glanced down at the torn suit he wore. “That was from Sendak, those wounds?”

“Yes,” Ulaz glanced at them briefly, “thankfully I wounded him back.” Shiro shifted a little closer, letting a single finger trace the scar.

“I didn't even get to patch that up, huh?”

“No, I worry you would do a poor job.” Ulaz offered a small smirk, making Shiro snort in reply. “I think I may've learned something from watching you do it to me!” They shared a private laugh, eyes falling on each other. “I'm sorry again you didn't get to go back.”

“My leader would not be happy with my decision,” Ulaz ran his hand through the sand, “you see, for thousands of deca-phoebs, I have belonged to a group to bring down the Empire. You...sparked so many feelings within my chest that I would lay awake at night fearing your next fight in the arena, the next time in the labs. I...recklessly wanted to save you from that, from Sendak,” he glanced at Shiro, “at least the latter is how my leader will see it.”

“It must be horrible, being so far away from home.”

“It is quite alienating,” Ulaz stopped playing with the warm sands and looked up into the clear sky, offering it a bittersweet stare, before turning his attention to the man besides him, “however, I am with you, so perhaps I am not truly alienated.” He pulled Shiro against his shoulder, and the two stared upwards in silence.

“We should start looking for the Blue Lion tomorrow.”

“Yes. I imagine the Galra will be on their way. They...know it is here, so it is only a matter of time.” Shiro sighed, scrubbing at his eyes as he looked back at the shack. “I think I'll need to bring them with us. Something tells me they won't go home even if I ordered it.” They laughed again and stared back over the desert, the wind playing with their hair.

“No matter what, I'm going to protect you this time.”

“Shiro, you do not-” Ulaz stopped when lips pressed against his, and he relaxed into the kiss, drawing his hands around Shiro's back and bringing him into his lap. His ears pricked at the screech and hushes he heard from the children in the building, clearly curious about Shiro and himself, but it mattered not. He could sense a blade here. The boy with black hair and strange eyes looked suspiciously like Krolia, but that was a talk for another quintant. Right now, for all his anxieties, he felt relatively peaceful here on Earth with Shiro. It would not; could not last, but for now it would do.

“Hey, that's our moon up there,” Shiro pointed to the disc in the sky, and Ulaz smiled at him. Shiro nuzzled back into his shoulder, pointing back up, “and these are our stars.” He looked up at the Galra besides him, grinning with excitement, “but you are _my_ moon and stars.” He brushed his nose against Ulaz's and nestled into him as the wind picked up. It was likely that they would be back up there soon enough, and as much as Shiro never wanted to spend time any where near other Galra again, it was seeming unlikely. He swallowed the lump in his throat and squeezed Ulaz's hand tightly. No matter what happened, he'd spent a year in hell, but had come out stronger and with his guardian angel. He had too many lives to protect, and he wasn't in the best of places mentally, but he refused to give up. He glanced at Ulaz, then the shack, and finally back up into space. For now he would enjoy these tender moments before returning to a universal war.

Shiro was glad he wouldn't feel like he was fighting alone any more.

**Author's Note:**

> So that's how it's an AU! I like the idea of keeping them together (and hate hurting Ulaz). This is a piece I could perhaps one day add more to, but I doubt I will without effectively making it a much longer piece that really explores it all, like Monster You Made Me re: length, and how they manage with having a Galra with them that early on in the canon time line.
> 
> I hope you did enjoy, and tomorrow's piece is an Adashi! I have mixed feelings on it, but these are all just fun writing attempts honestly.
> 
> Thank you for reading!


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